


Testing to Destruction

by meetah12



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), How Have I been in this fandom for 6+ years and only just now wrote a fic, it took me longer to format the footnotes than it did to write this soooooo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-03 00:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19453093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meetah12/pseuds/meetah12
Summary: Time is a mirror held up to itself, and something about Crowley's prayer reminds God of a time Before.[A short character-study-ish piece concerning the period of time between Crowley's Prayer and the Not-So End of the World. Also perhaps the period of time between Raphael and Crowley. If only slightly.]





	Testing to Destruction

**Author's Note:**

> Footnotes _should_ work. I tried to emulate the style of the book with the narration, though I can admit I'm leaning more Pratchett than Gaiman here, and did waaaaaay too many footnotes lol. I blame it on the Narrator. (Who may or may not be Adam Young. You decide who in the Good Omens Universe could omnisciently describe the actions of God Herself.)
> 
> Let me know if anything looks wonky!
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as IneffablySerpentine, so feel free to HMU there!

Demons, especially the high-ranking ones, liked to rub angels the wrong way by mentioning to them at every chance they got that God had, in a sense, left the building. This was both a way to irritate their ethereal counterparts and a strange way of comforting themselves. Younger demons were a bit too frightened of being smote to play along but they snickered on the sidelines with their fingers crossed behind their backs nonetheless. 

It may help to provide more context for this touchy subject amongst many of the occult and ethereal beings that resided on the many planes. For eons, indeed, even before that whole questionable decision with the Ark, God had gone radio-silent. In her place, of course, was the Metatron. 

Any and all concerns or (God-forbid)[1] questions were to, in theory, go through the Metatron’s ear and into God’s. However, like with many parts of heaven, Bureaucracy had stuck its overly-complicated simulacrum of a nose into other people (angels’) business and had done a right good job of screwing everything up. 

And so, instead of the direct-telephone-line-to-God that Metatron liked to pretend that he was, the reality of the fact was that Metatron was more like God’s ever-ignored postman.Concerns and questions came up to him, and he sealed them and tried to find any remaining place to cram the letters into God’s mailbox [2].

Of course, there were other methods to reach God. Humans did it all the time, whenever they decided to go direct-to-the-source and offer a prayer for Her specifically. Angels could, technically, do this too, but it was a bit like texting your professor on a Sunday night instead of doing the respectable thing and emailing Her through the proper channels before your project just so happened to be due the next day.[3].

In all of time, strangely enough, there was only one demon ever brazen enough to pray to God herself. 

* * *

God would slightly frown at the concept that She was lounging- after all, one would assume that a presence without a physical form cannot lounge. Bright lights twinkled around Her nonetheless, as she floated in a room of her own design. She was quite Proud of it, in fact[4]; its appearance somehow flickered between a rendition of the Garden and a Nebula which was being sucked into a black hole. If one focused very hard on a corner, they just might be able to see a mailbox with letters sticking out of every single crevice, and a floating phone with a blinking light that suggested unread messages. She was only tangentially aware of Armageddon bearing down on her only inhabited creation, the same way an electron is only tangentially aware of the concept of an ever-expanding cosmos which he has somehow become a part of.

The phone rang shrilly, shattering the calm tranquility of God’s space. She sighed[5]. The phone hovered closer to Her, hoping beyond hope that for once God would actually pick her up and answer a call. Or at least delete some of these voicemails from Popes long dead and damned. God went to wave a hand and noticed[6]the extension on the incoming call. 

For a brief moment that lasted an eternity and in which several stars went supernova and incinerated their friendly neighborhood floating rocks, God considered the concept that perhaps the Morningstar had finally reached out. [7]But, alas, God didn’t recognize the rest of the number.[8]It was then, of course, that the machine beeped and a voice God recognized popped out. 

“God, you listenin’?” 

The polar ice caps made a remarkable recovery as God recognized the voice and for some reason, felt nervous for one of the first times in Existence. 

“Okay I know, you’re testing them, you said you were going to be testing them. You shouldn’t test them to destruction. Not to the end of the world.” 

The phone, deciding to be helpful, placed the word destruction on a loop. The word swam in the air, the first of its kind to reach God in millennia.[9]

God thought back to a time before the Fall, before She decided to sequester herself away from her children. Time reversed as she thought about it, eager to please its Creator. Civilizations rose and fell and flood waters rose and receded all the way back to when the Garden was still just a Garden, with no need for a Wall. Back when everything seemed Perfect.[10]

The words and questions of an Archangel rings in God’s ears even louder than it did when She first heard them. 

“Why must the humans suffer? Why must anything suffer?” 

“It is a test. All things must be tested,” She feels Her own words projected out into the mind of the angel before Her. 

The Doubt stung as much as it did in the moment. She could feel whenever one of Her own began to Doubt Her and Her judgement, and it felt like someone taking a knife and twisting it into Her Heart[11]. The Doubts of Raphael swam before her, taunting in their relevance. 

_What can be learned from testing something to Destruction?_

Though Raphael did not speak it, God heard it as though it had been shouted at Her. And with a wave of Her hand and a moment of anger that reignited the fiery pools of Hell, Archangel Raphael was plummeting. 

In the present times, God listened as the voice that once belonged to Archangel Raphael asked the same question that he had, all of those eons ago. And this time, She listened. 

She listened and thought and puzzled as time continued to march and the End of Times drew ever nearer. It is well known that God does not apologize. That would be like asking the Moon to apologize for the tides or asking the Sun to apologize for shining. God does not, in a manner of speaking, have emotions in the same sense that most living beings do. And, when She does let some emotions slip out they usually end up creating another Mass Extinction, so She usually attempts to stay Rational. 

No, God does not apologize. But, perhaps… Perhaps She can occasionally bend the Rules.[12]And so, when the Archangel Previously Known as Raphael Whom Is Now Known As Crowley or Occasionally and Much to His Own Chagrin, Crawly, puts all of his powers into coming up with something, God lends a hand. And Time listens to Her hand. God smiles, and rather than slowing down as Crowley has intended, Time stops like a naughty child caught with a hand inside the cookie jar. Every atom, every molecule, every star stops in its tracks. 

She sits back and watches as Lucifer gets sent back to his Kingdom by his own rebellious son[13], and watches as Adam makes the world right again, as She never felt the urge to all of these years. And if God smiles and laughs when beautiful, clever, brilliant Raphael (Crowley, Her mind corrects fondly) deciphers the prophecy and saunters back into Heaven with all of the charm of a typical snake, well then. No one was around to see it anyways. 

And finally, finally, _finally_ … God reaches out a hand, and opens a letter to read.

**Author's Note:**

> 1Questions were, quite literally, God-forbidden, given that the concept of the Fall is basically a mother who is sick of being asked ‘Why?’ every time she asks her children to be quiet and let her watch the birds in peace.[return to text]
> 
> 2At this point in time, Metatron had reached the 17th dimension and was steadfastly refusing to go any further because doing so usually made him a bit motion sick. And the mailman of heaven does not in any way, shape, or _form_ upchuck.[return to text]
> 
> 3One can extend this analogy further by positing that if God had clearly posted Office Hours then maybe Her Students wouldn’t be attempting to murder their annoying classmates with Hellfire borrowed from the Weird Physics Teacher downstairs. (And besides, God’s voicemail box has been full since, well, the dawn of time. There's only so many angry messages and apologies from Cain one can take until They decide to stop picking up the phone).[return to text]
> 
> 4Lucifer had to get it from somewhere, it is assumed.[return to text]
> 
> 5And somewhere, a butterfly flapped its wings and a would-be-hurricane huffily decided that it ‘wasn’t even worth getting all worked up when the whole damn thing is about to pop like a six-thousand-year-old bubble anyways'.[return to text]
> 
> 6A strange thing for an all-knowing, presumably all-noticing deity to be able to do. One would think God would have Noticed before there was even something to Notice. Or perhaps things became Noticeable because She Noticed Them. Or-[return to text]
> 
> 7And somewhere on Earth, a miraculous compound was discovered that researchers thought could perhaps cure cancer.[return to text]
> 
> 8Ah, nevermind. Turns out the miracle cancer cure was just yet another Viagra alternative.[return to text]
> 
> 9A fact in which it was sure to bring up at the water cooler. Hah! Take that, Ineffable. Always thinks he’s so special, but when it comes down to it, Destruction is the one who made it to the ear of the Almighty.[return to text]
> 
> 10In much the same way a sterilized Petri Dish is perfect before someone decides to start messing with it in a vain effort to do some actual science and learn something.[return to text]
> 
> 11Not that either of those things existed then.[return to text]
> 
> 12It’s only fair. After all, they ARE Her rules.[return to text]
> 
> 13And feels maybe a tiny thrill of vindication as Lucifer finally gets a taste of his own medicine.[return to text]


End file.
